


(여기 우리 둘만의) Canvas

by yeolakkuma



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Chromesthesia, Color Blindness, Disabled Character, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-27 20:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17773583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeolakkuma/pseuds/yeolakkuma
Summary: Yixing looked out the window and watched as the clouds rolled by. He saw periwinkle skies and flickers of amber rays. Seeing Yifan for the first time had Yixing finding art in all the things around him.





	(여기 우리 둘만의) Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt Code : T53 of kissfanxing 4 // 2019 (this work was originally posted to kissfanxing but the schedule extended longer and, after speaking with the mods, i decided to reveal myself.)
> 
> (Here’s Our Own) Canvas -- title is from : 4Minute - Canvas

There was always something about music that made Yixing’s heart soar more than anything else.

When he was younger, he would enter into contests just to sing for people. It would never matter if he won or lost, only that he could entertain; he could sing. He loved to sing, and occasionally, dance. When he finally had to settle on a major, it was a surprise to no one that he chose music.

Two years into university and he _still_ loved music like he did when he was younger. But now, he could read it, write it, and sing it. He had learned over time how to play the piano as well. He had casually learned a few things when he was a child, but as time went on, he excelled in all things related to music. It was difficult, at first, to play an instrument and sing at the same time. But, eventually, he learned that too.

What he still hasn’t mastered though...was love. At the beginning of university, Yixing had a few girlfriends and even a boyfriend. There was a hook-up stage too, but that didn’t last long as he constantly wanted to find companionship rather than casual sex. He wanted to find his person.

...then there was Wu Yifan.

Yixing had only seen him by chance. Still trying to navigate the new buildings in the first week, he found himself across campus near the art department. He was peeking into different classrooms when he found the tall stranger in a caramel colored apron covered in pottery clay. Yixing stood silently in the doorway, just watching. The other’s hands moved with the spinning wheel molding and shaping. Yixing was fascinated.

With each move, the stranger’s wavy, red hair would bounce and moved when he tilted his head from side to side-eyeing his work for imperfections. He pressed one finger into the clay and suddenly, it took on a completely different shape.

Yixing sat for a moment longer completely charmed by the way the guy’s hands carefully molded the substance from one form to another. There was a soft smile on his face, and suddenly, Yixing realized he was smiling too. He knew exactly how the other felt. It was the same way Yixing felt about music.

Before Yifan could see him, Yixing silently thanked Yifan for the demonstration, then hurried to find his way to class. Yixing wasn’t aware of the other’s name then, but it wouldn’t matter. Yixing liked his soft smile and the way his face looked with smears of taupe.

 

Challenging as it was, the first week still passed by in a flash. Yixing was thankful for the weekend, the Weeknd, and his best friend, Luhan.

That Saturday was when Yixing found out the stranger in the art room’s name. Between smooth beats and snacks, Luhan had asked why he was late to class their first day and how his week had gone. Yixing couldn’t help but gush about the stranger with incredible sculpting skills.

Luhan chuckled airily, “His name is Yifan. He’s an art major, so pottery isn’t the only thing he’s really good at.”

Yixing nodded along thoughtfully. So, art major Yifan was really good at other things. He wondered what his paintings looked like and if he could capture still-life like the professionals. Yixing also thought about ruby strands and blushed cheeks. Luhan smiled, nudging him playfully.

“Do you have a little crush on him?”

Yixing hid his face, but it was way too obvious. “No! He’s just...interesting and alluring. I like watching him.”

“I see.” Luhan rolled his eyes then smiled again. “It's still the beginning of the school year. There will be plenty of time to meet him.”

Yixing sighed then felt Luhan moved down to lay across the couch. He stretched his legs over the arm, then put his head on Yixing’s thigh. They turned on a drama they had seen a dozen times while chatting about the rest of the week.

Yixing looked out the window and watched as the clouds rolled by. He saw periwinkle skies and flickers of amber rays. Seeing Yifan for the first time had Yixing finding art in all the things around him.

 

The next week Yixing got less lost in the halls, but more in Yifan’s russet-colored eyes.

He wasn’t exactly intentionally getting lost in the art department, but he wasn’t really wandering around either. The conductor of the university’s orchestra asked Yixing to deliver a banner idea to the head of the art department. He, of course, accepted.

For several reasons. One of them being the hope of seeing Yifan.

Even though he only had to pass through the halls, Yixing stopped for a moment when he heard soft piano music. He cautiously leaned into the same room as before to see not only Yifan but a few other students as well. They were circled around the room drawing with what Yixing assumed was charcoal.

He stood in the doorways again clutching the folder to his chest just watching. He couldn’t see what Yifan was sketching, only his movements and a smirk. Yixing chuckled when Yifan wiped his face, leaving a dark smudge across his cheek. Yixing loved the way he pouted then rubbed at the mess only making it worse.

Eventually, Yixing pulled himself away and sulked. He walked toward the office where he was supposed to be going. The art department was more than willing to make the banner, of course. They gave the folder and it's content to the graphics design majors and promised something special by the deadline.

The thing about walking to the art department was that Yixing knew he had to walk back to the music department. He had to walk by the same classroom again that Yifan was in. He shuffled by slowly, just to see if he was still there. He was. This time he was sitting down with his head in his hands. Yixing knew that his entire face was now most likely covered in charcoal.

Yifan heaved a sigh, then ran his hands through his tangled hair. He flipped the hood over on his shirt; a shirt that Yixing saw him wear last week. He figured it was his favorite considering how worn the chestnut plaid flannel looked. Yifan crossed his arms in his lap and Yixing figured he might have lost his spark for a moment.

Yixing had felt those moments too many times when the chords didn’t sound right and his voice was a bit strained.

Knowing he needed to return back to the music room for practice, Yixing reluctantly turned around and left. He wondered just what had Yifan looking so down. Sometimes when Yixing felt under the weather, or when his friends were causing trouble, he lost his drive to be more than mediocre. There were days when he felt less than adequate, but his small circle reminded him that he was an incredible musician. The nudge always helped.

Maybe, Yixing thought, Yifan needed a nudge like that too.

 

The week carried on and Yixing didn’t see Yifan again. He wasn’t exactly seeking him out, but Yixing did enjoy occasionally seeing crimson above the many heads in the courtyard. He ate with Luhan one day, and alone another. That day was beautiful. At least, to Yixing it was.

The sky was full of pewter and porcelain. It threatened to rain several times and Yixing listened to the rumble of thunder as it crossed from one side of the sky to the other. He remembered the day well because he wore an olive shirt and denim jeans.

By Friday, Yixing knew the route to and from the music department and the art department well. He tried to contain his excitement about the weekend but ultimately failed while texting Luhan several times during the week. Yixing really wanted to find out whatever gossip he could about Yifan. Especially when Luhan confessed to being his childhood friend.

That night they made enough ramen for five people, eating it out of a pot the size of a small coffee table. Luhan shoved kimchi into his mouth between bites of noodles and talking about Yifan. Yixing wanted to know the simple things, even if he felt like a little girl squealing about her elementary crush.

“What do you want to know?” Luhan asked.

Yixing sat in thought for a moment before speaking. “Does he have a favorite color? When is his birthday?”

“I’m pretty sure he likes the color green, and his birthday is the 6th of November.”

Yixing hummed, nodding his head and wondering if Yifan liked other colors too; ones that Yixing liked. His hair was a lot darker red than Yifan’s; more of a wine than a poppy. Yixing tugged on a strand then smiled to himself. Luhan scoffed then shook his head as he stretched his legs into Yixing’s lap.

“Anything else, lover boy?”

Yixing shoved on Luhan’s calves playfully, “No, not yet.”

“You don’t want to know if he’s like single, gay, or both?”

“Nah,” Yixing chuckled, “I’ll figure that out with time. I want to meet him honestly and get to know him.”

Luhan shrugged and then continued to eat the ramen on the table. Yixing daydreamed between his bites. He thought about what his reflection would look like in shades of cinnamon and spice. He wondered if Yifan would like the blush of his cheeks of the mustard colored turtleneck he wore during the cooler seasons.

Most of all, he thought about what color Yifan’s love would be.

 

Sunday brought rain, the shade of heather, and Yixing’s shoes drenched in water.

He wanted to make a quick trip to the music store to treat himself to new sheet music. It poured and poured as he protected his bag rather than his own head. What should have been a twenty-minute trip turned into an hour trek across town in ankle-deep water.

By the time he got home, Yixing was shivering and soaked to the bone. He quickly changed, dropping his wet clothes on the bathroom floor. He took a quick shower to warm up, then slipped into shorts and an oversized sweater. He abandoned one towel on the floor but kept the other on his head to dry his hair while making a cup of tea.

After warming up a bit, he sat down at his baby grand piano with the new sheet music. He was thankful for peaceful neighbors that loved when he played or practiced music. There was the ahjumma two doors down, and another across the hall with two cats. Every once in a while they gave him containers of kimchi and thanked him for the lovely ambiance.

Yixing wrapped his fingers around the mug to warm them up a bit. He took a sip of his tea before placing it on a coaster then he opened the booklet. He started with a piece in the middle. Yixing never liked to start from the beginning when he got a hold of new sheet music.

He recognized the piece as soon as he started playing it. He didn’t even have to look at the title; Sonata No. 14 “Moonlight” in C-Sharp Minor, Op. 27 No.2: I. Adagio sostenuto. A personal favorite of his. Yixing closed his eyes and continued. He knew the piece well even without looking at the booklet or turning the pages. He needed it for other pieces he wanted to learn, but definitely not for this one in particular.

Yixing’s hands played the piece like they were attached to Beethoven himself. He loved this piece and the ease with which he played it. He wondered if Yifan would listen to him play, or if he could teach him how to instead. One thought led to another of Yifan painting in one corner of the apartment and himself on the baby grand in the other.

Ivory keys and closed eyes wandered to swirls of cerulean and beige carpet. It carried onto summer sunsets and breakfast on balconies. Yixing’s mind was filled with little scenarios of true love and "Für Elise" as his fingers began to play the song of their own accord.

When the piece picked up Yixing thought of picnics in parks and sunshine in Yifan’s hair. He played and played until it slowed back down, then he dreamed of slow dancing in the living room and midnight kisses in the dark. By the time Yixing finished the piece, he had thought about all the ways he would make love to Yifan, writing them with the tips of his fingers into the rosewood colored baby grand.

 

Monday morning Yixing went to school like every other normal day. He washed his face, brushed his teeth, then put on a cream-colored button-down. He rolled the sleeves up to his elbows then slipped on dark-wash jeans; a usual, comfortable outfit for school.

What was unusual about that day, was the moment he opened his locked. Inside was a five-by-eight piece of toned tan paper folded in half. Yixing carefully took it between his fingers and opened it slowly to see an obscure charcoal sketch drawn on it.

Yixing could make out what looked like a doorway, a figure leaning against the frame. The only color on the beige paper was red. It was mixed with the black of the charcoal medium. The mixture made for a lovely shade of garnet. Yixing smiled, then he laughed loudly at the small, sloppy handwriting in the corner of the page.

 

“Love is an open door.”

 

“What a goof.”

Some of the charcoal smudged off onto Yixing’s fingers but he didn’t mind. The sketch was a warming gesture, but whoever placed it into his locker must not have been aware he was already setting a plan in motion; a plan to capture the heart of art major Wu Yifan and show him how gauche and Mozart could mix.

 

Later that day Yixing chose Pachelbel; ‘Canon in D’. Instead of playing on the full-sized piano, he chose to play the pipe organ tucked away in a mostly abandoned dusty room across campus. He was pleasantly surprised to see fellow music major Jongdae there with his violin.

Jongdae smiled fondly, “Like the acoustics. Wanna join me?”

“Sure,” Yixing nodded then sat down at the organ. “Want to play ‘Canon’?”

“Do I want to play ‘Canon’!?”

Jongdae gesture comically with his hands on his hips before shaking his head. Then, he motioned for Yixing to set their tempo. Yixing stretched his hands above his head then started tapping his foot. He didn’t need sheet music, and neither did Jongdae.

The organ sounded like it might need to be tuned just the slightest but Jongdae sounded angelic. Yixing could hear the faintest hum of his voice as he slid the bow against the strings of his violin.

For Yixing, he could play ‘Canon’ all day, especially on the pipe organ, and especially with Jongdae. They made quite the musical pair despite their break-up. _He_ was the one boyfriend Yixing had. It was perfect until it wasn’t. They loved music more than each other but it was always fine. The split was mutual but that didn’t mean they had to detach themselves from their strong friendship and bond over music.

Jongdae became the Cameron to Yixing’s Ferris, the Wayne to his Garth, the Bill to his Ted, Chewie to his Han, Spock to his Kirk. Yixing could always go on and on. Jongdae was his best friend; the only one besides Luhan. And even though they had loved, it didn’t mean that had to lose.

Yixing smiled remembering how Jongdae had been the day of their break-up. He had missed their date, losing track of time in the same room they were in now. It was ironic that Jongdae had been playing Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto. The composer himself had written it during a time when he was experiencing relationship issues and conflict over his work.

Instead of leaving him there, and being angry, Yixing sat down at the organ and began to play Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C#m, Op.3, No.2. It reminded him of a time when both of them watched a scary movie and Jongdae nearly messed his pants. They had shared a laugh, decided to remain friends, and left that day a bit happier than before.

Yixing was torn from his thoughts when he could no longer hear Jongdae playing. He turned around to see him, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He was standing just off to the side of the organ. Yixing had never seen him move so lost in thought.

“You seem...distracted,” Jongdae said. He sat down next to Yixing on the bench and pressed different keys without putting much thought into what he was playing.

“I was remembering how we broke up.”

Jongdae nodded his head, then smiled playing the first few chords of Bach’s ‘Art of the Fugue’ BWV 1080. “What else were you thinking about? Maybe someone else?”

Yixing had to look away. They might have broke-up but Jongdae still knew Yixing very well. He knew when he was hiding something. Yixing pulled the sketch from his pocket, handing it off to Jongdae carefully.

“I found this in my locker this morning. No idea who it's from.”

Jongdae took a long look at the paper, examining every detail. He smiled but said nothing more as he handed the paper back then began to put his violin away. He picked up the case, then gestured toward the door.

“Want to go get coffee before we head to the practice room?”

Yixing nodded, “Sure, but you’re buying.”

 

One coffee turned into two, then it turned into a discussion about why Yixing seemed to be so wistful and dreamy all the time. Between sips of watered down cold coffee and Jongdae’s nagging, Yixing let it slip that he might have a small crush on a certain tall artist.

“His name is Yifan and I found him in the art department.”

“Oh!” Jongdae smirked, “Really tall, red hair, wears the same plaid shirt almost every day of the week?”

Yixing nodded. “That’s him.”

“I know that guy. I took a few classes with him freshman year. He’s nice; kind of a quiet, hopeless romantic type.”

They shared a couple of pastries while Jongdae explained everything he knew about Wu Yifan. Yixing was well informed on the small stuff, but Jongdae went into the deeper things; like how Yifan was into guys. Jongdae made a comment that he liked cute ones, like Yixing. He also had a thing for randomly sketching in the middle of class on the side of his notebooks. Jongdae even said that he once stopped in the middle of the courtyard just to paint the ginkgo trees in the fall.

That made Yixing smile because one of his favorite shirts was a similar color and Yifan liked that color.

They made a bit more small talk before throwing away their trash and hurrying back to the practice room. Yixing might have stumbled a few times thinking about fanned leaves and autumn winds. The dream lasted only until he got to the courtyard where he saw the same trees covered in kelly green and mushroom brown.

Yixing wondered just what other colors Yifan saw when he looked at the world around him.

 

\--

 

Three weeks had passed before Yixing was surprised by another sketch.

He was already late that day due to not being able to find his sheet music. When he found it, he shoved it into his bag and ran to class as fast as he could. He only stopped by his locker afterward for another lost booklet when he found the same toned tan paper. This time, there was a pencil sketch drawn on it. The little illustration seemed to be the same doorway from before but this time, the figure wasn’t leaning against the from; it was just standing there.

What Yixing really loved about the sketch was all the hues of yellow smeared across it in pastel chalk. There were daffodil and honey, swirls of marigold and butterscotch mixed with fireworks of mustard, canary, and gold. Yixing smiled to himself brightly, tucking the sketching into his bag carefully after reading the sloppy handwriting in the corner.

 

“You are my sunshine.”

 

The small piece of art found its way into the folder Yixing had stored the other picture in. He thought about it all day long. Even through playing piano, Yixing’s mind wandered.

The bright colors finally came to him as he sat in the courtyard for lunch. They were indeed the colors of sunshine. Yixing found himself in awe, basking in the warmth of the day. He wondered just who had a penchant for making such small but wonderful pieces of art. He hoped that he would continue to get more if he decided not to question who was sending them. He could make a small collection and hang them in his living room; like a gallery, only he himself could enjoy.

Luhan joined him during his daydreams. He sat quietly for a moment next to Yixing before picking up the sketch and smiling, “So, is this the reason you can’t keep that dumb smile off your stupid face?”

“Mhm,” Yixing chuckled, then closed his eyes letting the swirls of red and orange cloud his vision, “Someone who sees colors like that must be a true artist. It's amazing. You can see and feel the warmth in the sketch.”

“Do you know who is sending them to you?” Luhan asked.

Yixing sat in through for a moment before answering. He did and did not want to know. “No, and part of me really doesn’t want to. I want to keep receiving them. I want to see what the next one is. What color will they see next? Will it be a hue of green or a shade of black? I want to see more.”

Luhan hummed in thought, or maybe agreement. He put the sketch back in the folder before laying down in the grass next to Yixing for the remainder of their lunch period.

 

When Yixing went home for the day, he changed clothes, then sat down in front of the baby grand. He wasn’t sure what he would play, only that he wanted to. He pulled the folder from his bag then set the new sketch in front of his booklet. He stared at it for a long moment before randomly playing different chords. After a while, his heart was guiding his fingers.

What came out was familiar but in a different key. Instead of ‘A’ or ‘C’, it was in ‘G Major’. Yixing closed his eyes and let his hands do all the work. Many times he had played this piece, ‘River Flows in You’. It was a more modern song that Yixing loved to play in all keys. He found that his new favorite was now ‘G’.

As he played he thought about the sketch, warm sunshine, and a stranger. He wasn’t exactly sure what the stranger saw in him, but with colors like those, it had to be something special. Yixing smiled brightly with his eyes still closed thinking about how this person must see all sorts of wonderful colors. He must see people as are instead of ordinary things.

Yixing wondered if Yifan saw the same; if he saw mixtures of oils and brushes instead of flesh and bone.

As the piece ended, a new one began; the same artist, just a different song. ‘Rivers’ ended but ‘May Be’ began in its original key. Yixing continued to smile as he played quietly in his living room. He opened his eyes looking around for space in his small apartment. He settled on the far wall deciding it was as good of a place as any for a small art gallery.

Yixing stood when he was through, and instead put on Yiruma’s ‘Piano Moods’ album. The shuffle play decided that ‘Yellow Room’ was appropriate as Yixing smiled and examined the far wall. Not wanting to destroy the paper with thumbtacks, Yixing decided a floating shelf and frames would be best. He could arrange the pieces in whatever way he wanted.

After a quick trip to the hardware store, Yixing had what he needed to build a small shelf. He used what money he had, and with the help of an associate, had a long floating shelf and some small frames for his little art gallery. His landlady did really care what Yixing did so long as he didn’t tear down walls or destroy the place.

Yixing walked back to his apartment with a skip in his step. For some reason, he felt really excited even though the pieces were only for him to enjoy and not some magnificent exhibition. He toes off his shoes then set the bags down before going to the kitchen to make tea. For no other reasons than the theme of the day being yellow, he cut a lemon slice and let it float on top of the warm tea in the mug.

Resuming the playlist where he paused it, Yixing swayed along to ‘If I Could See You Again’. He really wanted to see Yifan again, if only to watch him create. Yixing started to measure the space he wanted to use, then grabbed all of his materials. He drew light accurate lines where he wanted the shelf to sit, then started hanging it.

After all was said and done, Yixing put the two sketches in frames then set them side-by-side on the shelf; red, then yellow. He admired them for the longest time, sipping his lukewarm tea. He could taste the splashes of lemon while appreciating the piece he had dubbed ‘Sunshine’. Even though he only had two, he thought maybe that one was his favorite so far.

 

When Luhan came by that weekend, he admired Yixing's little gallery on the shelf. They had planned to go out to a party with a bunch of friends, but Yixing felt a little under the weather. Instead, they sat on Yixing's couch, curled up as Luhan made Yixing eat soup and take cold medicine.

He said, "If you get sick, how will you be able to get another new piece of art from your secret artist admirer?"

Yixing hummed. Luhan was right. He didn't want to miss school and risk not being able to hopefully catch a glance of the person putting these lovely pieces in his locker. Even if he had a crush on Yifan, Yixing appreciated the kind gestures. Plus, each piece made Yixing feel somewhat enamored. They at least deserved some love and praise.

As they sat there watching shows they had already seen, Luhan asked, "Have you seen him? Yifan, that is, not your admirer."

Yixing shook his head, "No. I haven't been to the art department lately. I know he was working on the banner, which should be done soon. I see his head over all the others in the courtyard at times, but I haven't actually met him or anything."

There was a beat of silence, then Luhan chuckled. "Have you even actually tried to meet him or talk to him?"

"No!" Yixing sputtered, "and I don't plan to...not until I can get the courage."

Yixing felt Luhan shaking his head as he rested against his side. They were content to stay right there and he did until late afternoon. Yixing ate more soup later in the evening before Luhan left. He wouldn't leave until Yixing had finished the whole bow. He promised to take more medicine and rest well as Luhan waved goodbye.

 

While Yixing rested he thought about what Luhan had said; "have you tried?". Yixing didn't know Yifan, nor did they have any classes together. They were from different majors, and it felt like different worlds. Yixing was well off because of his parents. His had a nice apartment, and a piano he could play anytime he wanted. Yifan wore the same plaid shirt every day. Yixing made no other assumptions about his status but wondered a great many things.

He wondered the most about when he would find the courage to introduce himself to Yifan, or when he would have the opportunity. It wasn't an impossible feat. He had Luhan and Jongdae; two people who seemed to know him well already. He could ask them to help out, but part of Yixing wanted everything to happen naturally. If he was meant to meet Yifan, the world would surely make it happen.

 

\--

 

Yixing didn’t have to wait three weeks this time for another piece of art; it was three days. Wednesday, Yixing was just the slightest bit early when he found Luhan already leaning against his locker. He smiled then pointed toward it wiggling his eyebrows.

"I want to see if there's one in there today. I'm invested in the plot of this story."

Yixing just laughed before opening his locked. There was indeed a new sketch; same beige colored paper. He carefully opened it to a sketch that stunned him speechless. His jaw dropped as Luhan seemed not to notice his expression. The sketch was a lot more detailed than the ones before. There were large clouds, full and ominous. The whole thing was a mess of watercolors and ink, but Yixing knew this scene.

It was him.

He knew because the figure sitting on the ground was wearing a beautifully rich olive green shirt and dark blue pants. It was in the exact spot that Yixing had been sitting in. The clouds were so meticulously drawn that he thought whoever had completed this piece must be incredibly talented. There were mixtures of iron and graphite, ash and fog. In the corner was the same messy handwriting; same cheesy note.

 

'I like you. Olive you is nice.'

 

"Lu..."

"Yo?"

Yixing held the small paper in front of him, "This is me. This portrait, this scene; this was me when it almost rained the other day. I remember clearly because I thought it was a nice day. Why is - "

Luhan shrugged with a smirk on his face, "Maybe they just enjoy using you as their muse."

"This line is lame, but Lu...These pieces are gorgeous. I need to know who is putting them in my locker. I want to thank them."

Luhan scoffed then pouted, "Hey those lines are not lame! I find them sweet."

Yixing rolled his eyes then opened his bag to exchange his books. He set the new piece in his folder for safe keeping. He would put it on the shelf with the other as soon as he got home. This one was definitely his new favorite, with 'Sunshine' a close second.

"You were here before me. Did you see them?" Yixing turned to start his walk to class, Luhan right beside him.

"No. I got there right before you did. I even skipped going to get coffee to be here early."

Yixing sighed as he adjusted his bag, "Oh well. Maybe next time."

 

The rest of the day Yixing's mood slipped. He worried his lip so much it started to chap. It wasn't that he was upset that Luhan hadn't caught the mystery artist, it was that the stranger seemed to find Yixing in the most artistic and introspective poses. He found that more and more he wanted to know who this person was and not who Yifan was. Someone who could capture that much of nature's beauty surely was someone capable of being romantic. Each little illustration had increased in detail and color. That had to mean something.

As the day went by, Yixing couldn't play a single note.

Frustrated, Yixing shoved all the music sheets into his bag. It was fine. His instructor sent him to the art department to retrieve the banner they had commissioned. Even though Yixing really didn't want to go this time, he obliged. He could use the walk to clear his head.

He heard murmurs coming from the same classroom he always passed; the one Yifan was always in. As he approached he kept his steps quiet and his breathing steady. He leaned into the doorway trying to remain unseen. His eyes flew wide open as he watched Luhan and Yifan argue over what looked like a small notebook.

Yixing was in awe of the deep, but tight voice that came from Yifan.

"Luhan, when I said you could use this for your calligraphy class...It didn't mean you could rip out pages!"

Luhan winced, then shrugged, "I'm sorry, but I know what I'm doing, okay?"

Yifan threw the notebook down on the table then ran his hands through his hair. "Those sketches were really personal! You don't understand anything at all, do you?"

"Fan, calm down." Luhan sat down next to Yifan on a stool then pushed the notebook back toward him. "Explain it to me. I can try to help more somehow."

Yixing thought maybe he should go, but the way Yifan looked so defeated kept him motionless. Yifan plopped down on his stool thumbing through the notebook. He looked completely demolished and heartbroken as he stared down at the pages. Luhan was quiet next to him, urging him to talk with a pat on the shoulder.

"You know about soulmates right? How some of us can't see or hear without them or their love, yeah?"

Luhan nodded his head then sighed, "Sure, yeah. One soulmate had a disability of some kind, while the other is like perfectly normal?"

Yifan looked down at the notebook once more then started flipping pages again. He pursed his lips then started speaking in hushed tones. "I can see color...but only when I look at him, and especially if I can hear him. It's like fireworks across my vision. It started small, just one color, but then I started seeing so many more. Every time I hear his voice, I see the most colors I've ever seen. When I'm alone, its only gray. I'm color-blind, Luhan. Those sketches of him are the only way I can see colors."

Luhan leaned into Yifan's shoulder. Yixing smiled softly. He knew this action well. It was a comfort thing Luhan always tried to do when people were upset, especially with him. "Fan, I'm sorry. I didn't...I didn't know. I swear I'm using them for good, okay? Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do stupid. But just...You could have asked me and it would have been fine. I could have copied the sketches. You don't understand what it could mean for me to have found my soulmate. Luhan, I could finally be able to see color all the time."

Yixing quickly turned and pressed his back against the wall. His heart was beating so fast. He suddenly felt a great sadness wash over him. So, Yifan had found his soulmate. Yixing could feel tears welling up. He had dated plenty but he wasn't disabled. He wouldn't know exactly when he found his soulmate except for the moment they were actually in love. He would just feel it. People like Yifan would know. They would see or hear, and would just know that was their person.

Yixing hiccuped a few sobs before running to the bathroom nearby to calm down. He couldn't understand why he was so upset by hearing Yifan had found his soulmate; maybe because he felt it wasn't him. They had never even spoken before. Yixing unrolled too much toilet tissue then started wiping his face. He needed to calm down, and fast.

When he could breathe again, he stepped out of the stall to splash water on his face. He rubbed his eyes before drying off and leaving. He needed to grab the banner, then get lost. He would try to take a different route back to class. He couldn't bring himself to pass by the room again. He didn't want to hear any more talk about soulmates.

The banner was exactly what everyone expected; perfect. Yixing looked it over noticing each student signed the corner. He felt a horrible pain in his chest when he glanced at Yifan's signature among the other students', then he stopped dead. He grabbed his bag from the floor and threw everything around in a frenzy until he found the folder with the sketch. He held it up comparing the handwriting between the two.

They looked nearly identical. If they were from the same person, Luhan had been putting Yifan's sketches in Yixing's locker.

Yixing had to steady himself. He had to play it cool. There was absolutely no way that the sketches were from Yifan's notebook. They didn't even know each other and rarely were even in the same vicinity except for the times that Yixing wandered the halls of the art department. Yixing shoved the sketch back into the folder and decided, whatever was happening, could wait.

 

As soon as Yixing got home, he broke. He didn't care about the contents of his bag as he threw it across the room and fell to his knees. He was hurting. He clutched his stomach and let go of the emotions that he had bottled up all day long. He didn't even understand why he was crying so hard or why everything just physically hurt. He pulled himself up from the floor enough to take his shoes off and then sit at the baby grand.

He shoved each booklet in the stack around until he found a scribbled on piece of sheet music, crumpled and old. After watching one of his favorite drama, 'Descendants of the Sun', Yixing had figured out the piano to 'Once Again' by Kim Na Young. It was his favorite song from the soundtrack. He let the tears fall as he followed along with each note, singing and letting every emotion he could out.

 

“다시 너를 볼 수 있을까 - Dasi neoreul bol su isseulkka - Will I see you again?”

 

Yixing could hear himself and the strangled choke of his voice as he sang. He played the notes and sobbed, trying his best not to actually wail. Everything about playing was hurting him. He could barely press each key or sing each note. As the song slowed, and he could barely get a whisper out without crying, he slammed his hands down on the keys and screamed. He swiped his hands across the booklets on the stand, sending them flying.

Yixing was having an honest to Gods breakdown. He fell to his knees after, howling and crying. He held onto his sides feeling a sudden rush of anguish. He choked out one more yelp before pressing his palms into the carpet and hanging his head. For a moment all he did was heave air into his lungs...

Then, the world went black.

 

“Hey, Xing...Yixing, are you with me? Shit, what happened here.”

It felt like ages. Yixing woke up half-cradled, half-slumped on the couch. Luhan had a cool rag against his head. It felt like Yixing was literally on fire. He was hot and feverish. Luhan shushed him when he groaned.

“Yixing, your apartment is a mess. What the hell happened?”

“I...Luhan, I don’t know.” Yixing shifted then looked around at the disaster that was his apartment. “I was just in so much pain, then I couldn’t help it. I had an outburst after trying to play a song, ya know; get everything out.”

Luhan pursed his lips, then sighed. He shook his head before moving Yixing to set close next to him. Whatever was on Luhan’s mind was serious. He had that pensive look, eyebrows knitting together in frustration. When he said nothing else, Yixing decided to let it go. If he was mad, he could talk about in his own time.

They sat like that in silence for a while. Luhan texted someone a few times with the same frustrated look, but Yixing was in and out of sleep curled up close to him. He couldn’t find it in himself to care. Luhan tucked the blanket under Yixing’s chin, telling him to just rest.

Whatever this was, Yixing didn’t like it in the least.

 

“Xing, can I talk to you about something?”

Yixing shifted just enough to look up at Luhan. He seemed to be staring off into the distance. He glanced down at his phone, then back to Yixing.

“Yeah,” Yixing said, “Sure.”

Luhan nibbled his lip then shoved his phone underneath a pillow. Strange, but not uncommon. “I know you have a crush on Yifan, but is there anyone else?”

Yixing sat in thought for a moment. There wasn’t anyone else he really liked or wanted to be with. Sure, there were people he loved but not in the way Luhan was referring to. “Not really. I don’t know. I haven’t been focused on that. Why?”

“Um,” Luhan cleared his throat, then Yixing saw his cheeks turning pink. “Don’t get all weird on me but I want to do something to prove a point to someone. Just, do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.” Yixing sat up a bit, looking at Luhan’s shy face. There was something about the way he worried his lip that had Yixing kind of afraid, but then he put on a bright smile and the fear melted away.

“Can I kiss you? I just... I need to prove something, I don’t want to do it if you don’t want me to.”

Yixing sat in thought for a moment, but Luhan seemed determined. “Uh, yeah? I’m not sure what you’re trying to prove but if it helps you sleep better at night. Go ahead.”

Yixing wet his lips then shrugged; if it helped Luhan. He blushed while pushing Yixing’s fringe from his face. It made Yixing giggle and smile shyly. It was a little awkward to be kissed by your best friend. They had never done anything like this before; ever. Sure, there was some cuddling and occasionally hand holding when one of them was down, but nothing as intimate as kissing.

Luhan cupped Yixing’s face then leaned in, pressing their lips together hesitantly. When he didn’t fight, Luhan deepened the kiss holding the back of Yixing’s neck. It wasn’t a bad kiss, just different. It felt warm, like a spring day or fresh sheets. But this was a friend, and nothing more. Yixing enjoyed kissing Luhan though. It just wasn’t explosions and rock music. It was safety and warmth, and friendship.

After a moment, Yixing let Luhan get bolder. He tipped his head back further so that Luhan could slip his tongue in. It was soft and explorative. Yixing really like it, but he still felt nothing. He put his arms around Luhan humming in approval when Luhan held him just a bit tighter.

They pulled apart and Luhan smiled; one of self-assurance, “Nothing. Exactly like I thought.”

“Were you trying to feel something?” Yixing chuckled, “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t feel much either. It was a nice kiss; like you’re a great kisser but I just didn’t feel that spark.”

“Thanks?” Luhan laughed, then leaned into Yixing’s shoulder, “I was trying to prove something to someone, and I proved I was right. But, Xing, are you okay now? Your apartment is close to a trash dump.”

Yixing looked around once more then chuckled airily, “I’m not sure. I still feel kind of warm but that might be your kiss. Do you use that much tongue with everyone?”

“Want to do it again and find out?”

Luhan picked his head up just enough to lick Yixing’s cheek, then he started wrestling Yixing to the floor.

“No! Gross!”

Yixing scrambled but ultimately, was pinned down by Luhan and tickled until he was sobbing between hiccuped laughter. It broke whatever mood he was in. They both smiled before Luhan leaped up and held out his hand.

“Ramen?”

Yixing couldn’t oppose a suggestion like that. “Ramen.”

 

\--

 

Thursday, Yixing spent his hour lunch period with coffee in the abandoned organ room. That morning he had not one, but two sketches in his locker. Neither had a lame, but cute, sloppy phrase on them. They were quite morbid in all truth. And, frankly, they somewhat scared Yixing. He was trying to wrap his mind around what exactly he was looking at.

One was the same doorway from the other sketches. He knew that the doorway was the same one that lead to the art room Yifan was frequently in. There was absolutely no color; just...gray. Yixing could tell it was pastel chalks again. The powder was still unsettled across the paper as if someone neglected to spray it down with fixative. It looks like a figure running away but Yixing was sure he wasn’t seen that day when Luhan and Yifan were arguing.

The next sketch was obviously Yixing’s balcony. But, instead of the blue curtains, the terracotta pot, or the white railing...it was all black. There was a detailed drawing of the entire balcony but it was obsidian and onyx, midnight and oil. Yixing never knew there were so many shades of black.

He absentmindedly started playing the organ while looking at both of the sketches. He couldn’t wrap his mind around why anyone would draw something so macabre. There was no real music coming from the organ, just chords Yixing knew sounded nice in the acoustics of the room. After a few moments, the door to the room slammed and Yixing nearly fell off the bench.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Yixing quickly turned around to see Luhan walking in with more coffee. He smiled, gave the fresh coffee to Yixing, then sat next to him on the bench.

“Needed to think,” Yixing said.

Luhan hummed, then stared at the sketches set out in front of them. “These are a little dark huh?”

“Yeah,” Yixing nibbled on his lip trying not to let it be known that he knew about the sketches and Yifan. He wasn’t completely sure, but he had enough evidence to conclude that Luhan was putting the sketches in his locker on behalf of Yifan...who kind of had no idea that Luhan was doing it. Yixing was also sure that the cheesy catch-phrases were Luhan’s doing, not Yifan’s.

Mindlessly, Yixing played more chords before he picked his head up and realized : He was Yifan’s soulmate.

It was like a light switch turned on. The colors, the outburst, the feelings of being tied to one another. Yixing slowly turned toward Luhan who had a soft smile on his face. He slid his hand into Yixing’s then he shook his head.

“Finally catching up now?” Luhan said quietly.

Yixing nodded then looked back at the sketches. They weren’t so morbid when he understood them. He had been seen, if only for a moment. Their ties were so strong that Yifan was able to find where Yixing was while he was having his meltdown. Then, Yixing understood why he had the fit.

The connection between them had thought it was being rejected.

Yixing picked up the darker sketch of his balcony and rubbed his thumb over what would be the railing. The pain he felt then was incomprehensible. He could only imagine the feelings that overtook Yifan, wondering if his soulmate was okay.

Luhan nudged Yixing, then handed him another sketch. It was the balcony again. This time, there were colors, bright and vivid. It had the same magnificent detail, but instead of the blacks smudged across the paper, there were tons of beautiful colors. Yixing could tell that Yifan took his time, using different techniques with markers and pens.

The curtains were french blue with deep shades of sapphire. The little pot Yixing had his succulent plants in, was three shades of orange; papaya, carrot, and cider. Yixing laughed through the tears that had started to fall. Knowing that this is how he helped Yifan see the world, made him happy.

Luhan held Yixing’s hand just a little tighter. “I want to ask you to do something for me.”

Yixing turned just the slightest and nodded. “Sure.”

“I agreed to model for Yifan, but I never intended to actually do it.” Luhan chuckled then pulled a tissue from his pocket for Yixing. “I want you to take my place. This was always the end game; having you sit in for me.”

There was a moment of silence then Yixing nodded. It was high time he took a step toward what he wanted. Yifan had been reaching out, in a way, and it was Yixing’s turn to do the same.

“I’ll do it.”

“I knew you would.” Luhan set his head on Yixing’s shoulder then sighed. “No expectations. Just go in there and be yourself.”

Yixing smiled then set his head on top of Luhan’s, “I think I can do that.”

 

When Friday afternoon came, Yixing didn’t know if he could do it. Even if his whole heart wanted to meet Yifan, he was still a stranger. Yixing reasoned that this could be when he actually got to know Yifan, instead of watching him from the shadows like a creep. Luhan had told him that he had nothing to worry about. And really, Yixing knew that.

It still didn’t stop the nerves as Yixing got dressed.

Both Jongdae and Luhan showed up to usher Yixing off to the art room at campus. Luhan told Yixing that there wouldn’t be anyone else there; something about how Yifan was working on an independent project and had gotten permission to stay late. Jongdae said it was a great opportunity to “put the moves on him”.

Yixing slapped Jongdae. Jongdae smirked. And Luhan just smiled at their antics.

It wasn’t until Yixing was sitting alone in the art room that the nerves really took over. It was odd, being at school with the lights off. There was almost no one there, only a few students who were studying late or taking make up tests.

Yixing sat down in the middle of the art room on a tall table. He swung his feet back and forth just waiting. He wasn’t sure when Yifan would show up until all the lights came on and scared him out of his skin. He didn’t jump from the table, only turned suddenly toward the doorway.

Both of them seemed stunned to see the other. It was the first time Yixing had ever seen Yifan in something other than his plaid shirt and ripped jeans. He looked handsome. His hair was now a soft brown that made his skin glow. He was wearing almost all gray; gray slacks, and a gray coat over an ivory sweater. Yixing thought he looked a bit overdressed to be working in the art room.

Yixing started to whisper, “I’m here because - ”

But, Yifan was quick to cut him off. “I know and, I half expected it.”

Yixing nodded then swallowed the knot in his throat. Yifan stood there for a moment before he set down the canvas under his arm, then took off his coat.

“I’m sorry.” He said. Yixing looked up and smiled softly. “I wanted to do this on my terms.”

Yixing sighed, then nodded his head. “I think I know how you feel.”

Yixing and Yifan shared a moment before Yifan just stared at him. Yixing was laughing, sitting crossed legged on the table. After a few moments, Yixing looked up at Yifan confused. He was starting to tear up. But then Yixing remembered; colors.

Quietly, Yixing whispered, “What do you see?”

Yifan walked around the table to stand closer to Yixing. “Yellow.” Yixing nodded then Yifan continued. “Your laughter is the color of sunshine. When I hear it, all I see is oranges and yellows, sometimes reds. It’s the closest things to seeing a sunrise or sunset. It was how I was able to see the colors of the ginkgo trees.”

“That sounds beautiful.” Yixing unfolded his legs then started swinging them over the side of the able again. “Have you ever seen me when I’m sad?”

Yifan nodded then leaned against the wall, “When you sob, it hurts. All I see is gray, but not the normal gray. It’s like looking at storm clouds. There are shades of blue and purple too, sometimes green. I know when you’re upset by the colors that I can see.”

“What about my voice?” Yixing looked at Yifan for a moment then smiled wide. “What do you see when you just hear my voice?”

Yifan moved just a bit closer to Yixing. He started talking animatedly, like a child. He covered his face for a moment, his cheeks turning red with embarrassment. “Your voice is different colors. When you’re excited it's light blue or green, like a robin’s egg, or mint. Other times, when you’re sad, it's browns or muddied grays.”

There was a moment of silence as Yixing thought about all the colors Yifan saw in him and around him. They were all lovely. Yixing extended his hand to Yifan and when he took it, it felt warm.

“What do you see now?” Yixing asked.

“Purple.” Yifan giggled, then brushed his thumb over Yixing’s knuckles. “Your pants are eggplant and plum. Your shirt is gorgeous and silk. It's amethyst, lavender...and wine in the creases.”

Yixing smiled, then decided that was the color he wanted Yifan to use. “Are pastel chalks your favorite medium?”

“Yeah. They are a bit messy, but the end results are usually beautiful.”

“Will you use them…?” Yixing slowly looked down at his and Yifan’s hands then back up again. “I like those pieces the most; the ones in chalk.”

Yifan nodded then went to the lockers. He grabbed the chalks then started setting up his canvas on the easel. It wasn’t long before he was putting on an apron and asking Yixing to turn more toward the window. Yifan raised the blinds just enough for the evening sun to come in, then he turned off the rest of the lights.

It took a moment before Yixing realized what Yifan was doing.

“Just sit still and talk to me,” Yifan said, “about anything. Tell me a story or just talk about yourself.”

Yixing nodded then stared out the window. There were pinks and blues smeared across the sky...And deep, dark purples. Yixing smiled, then took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what he should talk about but all of the sketches came to mind.

As Yifan began to sketch things out on the canvas, Yixing recalled almost everything that happened.

“The first time I saw you, I thought you looked really cute. You were sitting with the pottery wheel and your face was smudged with clay.”

Yifan chuckled. “You whispered thank you to me that day.”

“I did.”

Yixing smiled shyly as he watched Yifan wipe his hands on a towel. He turned around, grabbing a glass to put water in, “You’re turning the same color I saw that day.”

Yixing laughed nervously then wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. “You weren’t supposed to hear me.”

“I know.”

Yifan set his glass of water next to him, then started to sketch and color the canvas. Yixing tried not to turn his head too much. They talked more about Yifan’s sketches and eventually, they broached the subject of the darker works. Yifan nibbled his lip as Yixing bowed his head low.

“I thought you were dying.” Yifan whispered.

“It felt like it.” Yixing admitted, “I was in so much pain. I still don’t quite understand it.”

Yifan nodded, “Neither do I, but I never want you to feel like that again.”

Yixing looked up and tried to smile. It was soft and sincere. Yifan set his chalk down, then wiped his hands. He stepped away from his canvas and tossed half of his apron over his head. It folded over, uncovering his sweater. Yixing looked away only for a moment as the sun was finally setting. Yifan walked around the table to stand in front of him.

“I mean it. I never want you to feel like that again.” Yifan whispered. He took Yixing’s hands into his own, this time it was cool, but damp. “Let’s do this.”

Yixing felt warm all over. He watched as Yifan’s eyes widened, then tears started to fall from his surprised face. He gasped then Yixing reached up to wipe his cheek. “What do you see?”

“Everything.” Yifan took another step toward Yixing, then whispered again. “I see everything. I see the honey in your eyes, the white flaking skin on your chapped lips, the charcoal of your undyed roots. Everything, Yixing, I see it all and it's so beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Yixing gently pulled Yifan toward him then lifted slightly to hold him close. Yifan sobbed into Yixing shoulder continuing to whisper that he saw everything; every single color. There was not a spec of gray unless it was already supposed to be there. Yixing slowly ran his fingers through Yifan’s hair trying to calm him down some.

“I’ve never seen the world like this.” Yifan said between sobs.

Yixing pulled Yifan out his shoulder and smiled, “Neither have I.”

There was burgundy and fire leaking in from the windows, then there was smoke and oil when Yixing closed his eyes. They both leaned into the other, pressing their lips together slowly. Yixing cradled Yifan’s face as he continued to sob and peck at his lips.

Yixing found that Yifan’s love wasn’t just one color; it was every color. All of them. All at once. And when Yifan pulled away, Yixing finally felt it in his heart.

Yifan was his soulmate, and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life making music and art together; mixing gouache and Mozart. The dream of slow dancing in the living room and midnight kisses became a reality. Yixing didn’t have to think of all the ways he would make love to Yifan, he did them. And at the end of the night, it was Yifan who sat down and wrote _his_ love story with the tips of his own fingers into the rosewood colored baby grand.


End file.
